You take a man that likes to walk, a man like me, a man's been walking in the streets going on ten or twelve years, and all those years he's got his eye out for one person, and nobody's ever her, don't it stand to reason she's not there?
Evidently it surprised her as much as it did me, for she yawned and with a series of rapid, deft movements stood up into the room. She was a slender, small-breasted girl, with an erect carriage, which she accentuated by throwing her body backward at the shoulders like a young cadet.
Her gray sun-strained eyes looked back at me with polite reciprocal curiosity out of a wan, charming, discontented face. It occurred to me now that I had seen her, or a picture of her, somewhere before.
Slenderly, languidly, their hands set lightly on their hips, the two young women preceded us out onto a rosy-colored porch, open toward the sunset, where four candles flickered on the table in the diminished wind.
She snapped them out with her fingers. I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it. Sometimes she and Miss Baker talked at once, unobtrusively and with a bantering inconsequence that was never quite chatter, that was as cool as their white dresses and their impersonal eyes in the absence of all desire.
They were here, and they accepted Tom and me, making only a polite pleasant effort to entertain or to be entertained. They knew that presently dinner would be over and a little later the evening too would be over and casually put away.
It was sharply different from the West, where an evening was hurried from phase to phase toward its close, in a continually disappointed anticipation or else in sheer nervous dread of the moment itself. When, almost immediately, the telephone rang inside and the butler left the porch Daisy seized upon the momentary interruption and leaned toward me.
Things went from bad to worse, until finally he had to give up his position. As if his absence quickened something within her, Daisy leaned forward again, her voice glowing and singing.
You remind me of a — of a rose, an absolute rose. I am not even faintly like a rose. She was only extemporizing, but a stirring warmth flowed from her, as if her heart was trying to come out to you concealed in one of those breathless, thrilling words. Then suddenly she threw her napkin on the table and excused herself and went into the house.
Miss Baker and I exchanged a short glance consciously devoid of meaning. A subdued impassioned murmur was audible in the room beyond, and Miss Baker leaned forward unashamed, trying to hear.
The murmur trembled on the verge of coherence, sank down, mounted excitedly, and then ceased altogether. I want to hear what happens.
She sat down, glanced searchingly at Miss Baker and then at me, and continued: Among the broken fragments of the last five minutes at table I remember the candles being lit again, pointlessly, and I was conscious of wanting to look squarely at every one, and yet to avoid all eyes.
To a certain temperament the situation might have seemed intriguing — my own instinct was to telephone immediately for the police. The horses, needless to say, were not mentioned again.
Tom and Miss Baker, with several feet of twilight between them, strolled back into the library, as if to a vigil beside a perfectly tangible body, while, trying to look pleasantly interested and a little deaf, I followed Daisy around a chain of connecting verandas to the porch in front.
In its deep gloom we sat down side by side on a wicker settee. Daisy took her face in her hands as if feeling its lovely shape, and her eyes moved gradually out into the velvet dusk.
I saw that turbulent emotions possessed her, so I asked what I thought would be some sedative questions about her little girl. Would you like to hear? Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where.The Great Gatsby: Money, Power, and the Fulfillment of Dreams - In The Great Gatsby written by F.
Scott Fitzgerald money, power, and the fulfillment of dreams is what the story’s about.
The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty [Eudora Welty] on leslutinsduphoenix.com *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. With a preface written by the author especially for this edition, this is the complete collection of stories by Eudora Welty.
Including the earlier collections A Curtain of Green.
Seeing as this is an English course, the second aim will be to develop skills necessary for students to be effective readers and writers. The cultivation of these abilities will not only aid students in their exploration of violence in literature, but in any other analytical work they may need to do in the future.
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Home / Literature / The Great Gatsby / Analysis / Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory ; Analysis / Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory ; SHMOOP PREMIUM Summary SHMOOP PREMIUM SHMOOP PREMIUM. A second use of symbolism that F. Scott Fitzgerald uses is the green light that Gatsby stares at throughout the novel.
The green light is at the end of Daisy’s dock across from Gatsby’s house. What Fitzgerald actually wanted this light to symbolize is highly debated but two meanings are evident; money and envy. Discuss F. Scott Fitzgerald’s use of the symbols throughout the novel, supporting your answer with reference to the text.
Symbols play a huge role in the Great Gatsby. They add to the understanding we take from the novel.